Just Five More Minutes
by MyImmortal329
Summary: Carol is closing up shop when a stranger shows up at closing in desperate need of a tie for his date.


Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead.

Just Five More Minutes

 _Sophia better be in bed when I get home. If she's up talking to that boy on the phone, she's grounded. Gotta get the kitchen cleaned up. Make sure to put the mortgage payment in the mail. Maybe I better text Sophia and make sure she's sleeping. Oh, you have got_ _to be kidding me._

Carol sighed and knelt down to pick up a pile of T-shirts someone had carelessly knocked off the display table. She'd just tidied that one up before the last group of customers had come through. It was two minutes to closing, and she was more than ready to get the hell out and get home. On nights like this where her help called in and she was left with all of the closing tasks, she wondered why she'd taken this part-time second job in the first place.

And then memories of divorce lawyer fees and saving up for Sophia's very first car would flood the forefront of her mind and bring her staggering back to reality. With a weary sigh, she gathered up the shirts and stood, folding each of them and putting them back carefully before straightening the rest of the table.

Her cell phone beeped at her, indicating that it was exactly 10:00 PM. _Finally._ She grabbed the store keys from her pocket and hurried to the door, eager to hear the satisfying click of the key in the lock, keeping the customers at bay and out of her hair until five o'clock tomorrow evening. _Ah, it's the little things._

But just as she reached the door, a large hand attached to a well-muscled arm clasped the handle.

"I'm sorry sir," she said, not even glancing up as she tried to pull the door shut. "We're closed."

"Shit," he mumbled, as the door clanged back into the frame. Carol looked up as she put the key into the lock, and there he stood, dark hair swept down into his eyes, hand pushing his hair back to reveal the most beautiful blue eyes she'd ever seen. He stood there looking desperate and defeated, wearing a crisp white button-down shirt and a pair of recently pressed black dress pants. His shoes were old but shined to acceptable date-quality.

"Sorry, we close at ten."

"My phone says it's 9:58."

"My phone says it's 10:00," she countered, though she took the key out of the door, leaving it unlocked.

"C'mon, lady. Can't ya stay open just give more minutes? All I need's a tie." She could see the twenty dollar bill crumpled in his hand, and she felt a little sorry for him. He looked like he'd been driving all over town, and the sweat beading at his brow certainly helped his case. She knew Shelly, the day manager, would be pissed if she knew Carol had let customers in past closing, but Carol couldn't help but feel for the guy. He clearly had a very important engagement—or a hot date—and who was she to refuse a paying customer?

"Alright. Five minutes. Ties are in the back by the counter." She opened up the door and let him step in before shutting it behind him and locking it, turning the OPEN sign to CLOSED. "But just five minutes. I have to work in the morning."

"They got you comin' back that early and workin' you this late?"

"Oh, no," Carol chuckled, following him to the back tie rack. "I'm a legal secretary. This is just my night job." Daryl grunted in response and started browsing through the ties. Carol couldn't help but notice the way the shirt hugged him in all the right places, showing off his best assets: arms and abs. She thought about selling him a larger shirt, considering he looked like he could go full Hulk and rip that shirt right off of his own back. Not that that would have been a bad thing. She certainly wouldn't mind getting an eyeful of that.

She cleared her throat and distanced herself from him, pulling the cash till and locking it in the safe for the morning associate to count. Then she went about wiping off the counter, sneaking peeks at him as she cleaned, noting the way his hair fell into his eyes and how he kept pushing it back like a nervous habit.

His hands were clean but looked rough, like he worked with them a lot. When her gaze lingered for too long, he'd look over at her, cheeks a little pink as if he'd been trying to sneak a peek at her, too. After a few awkward, silent minutes, Daryl found a tie.

"You think this goes good?" He held up a simple black tie, and Carol smiled, coming around the counter.

"Simple and classic. I think it's great." She cleared her throat. "I'm sure your date will approve."

"Well, I dunno. She's just twelve."

"What?" Carol stuttered, eyes going wide. Daryl's face turned a darker shade of red.

"Uh. Shit. I shoulda told you my date's my niece. She's goin' to her first middle school dance, and she's nervous. She asked me to take her for a practice date."

"Oh," Carol chuckled, breathing a sigh of relief. "Well, that's really sweet. Twelve, you say? I have a daughter who's fifteen. I wish her father had done something like that for her. She was so nervous the first time a boy asked her to a dance." She chuckled.

"Well, her daddy's in jail right now. Her mama works three jobs just to keep a roof over their head. I try to help out as much as I can with the kid. I'm a mechanic, so I spend a lot of time in the shop. I try though, ya know?" Carol smiled a little, humming softly in response.

"Do you have any children?"

"Me? Nah. Never been married."

"You don't have to be married to have kids," Carol pointed out with a little smile. "You want this one?" She took the black tie into her hands.

"Yeah. You think it'll look ok?" he asked.

"Well, let's see," she offered, reaching up to put the tie around his neck, adjusting his shirt collar around it before quickly tying it and adjusting the knot. "Have a look." She nodded toward the mirror on the fitting room door. He turned to look at himself, and Carol could tell he really wasn't sure about it. Clearly, he didn't dress up very often. He looked uncomfortable, like he was wearing a costume. But he sure looked handsome. "Trust me. You look great." She gave him a smile, and his gaze met hers in the mirror. He didn't smile back, but something in his eyes had her knees turning to jelly. She cleared her throat, stepping away. "Want me to ring it up for you?"

"Yeah. Thanks," he said quietly. He turned and watched her step behind the counter and punch a few buttons on the register. She leaned over, scanning the tag on the back of his tie before she totaled him up.

"$14.67," she offered.

"Tag says $19.99."

"Oh, uh," she blushed, "I gave you a customer appreciation discount."

"That a real thing?"

"It is today," she offered with a smile, as Daryl handed her the crumpled twenty dollar bill.

"Well, uh, thanks." He looked at the time. "Hell, m'sorry for keepin' ya late. I'm sure your husband's probably waitin' on ya."

"Oh, God no," she snorted, meeting his puzzled look with a sheepish grin. "Sorry. It's just that I'm divorced." She got a slight grunt in response as Daryl dug into his pocket for sixty seven cents. He found it and watched her count the coins before she tucked the cash into the drawer and handed him his change.

"Well, I really appreciate this," he said with a nod. "Gotta run. Won't hear the end of it if I'm late. She's got her daddy's knack for givin' me hell for just about everything." Carol laughed then and nodded her head.

"Oh, just wait. The fun's just beginning. Wait 'til she's fifteen and the boys are knocking at the door." With a sigh, she shook her head and laughed. "It gets worse, but there are good times, too. Just remember that."

"Can't wait," he muttered with a tired chuckle. "Um, thanks, uh…"

"Carol," Carol replied with a smile, admiring his hands as he shoved his wallet into his back pocket.

"I'm Daryl," he said with a nod. "You ever need a cheap oil change or somethin' fixed on your car, I run a shop downtown. _Dixon's_."

"Yeah, yeah. I've heard of it," Carol said with a nod. Daryl lingered then, and Carol raised her eyebrows. "Aren't you going to be late?"

"Shit," he stuttered. "Yeah. Uh, sorry. Just…"

"Yeah," Carol chuckled, cheeks flushing red as she watched him shift his weight from one foot to the other.

"My receipt?" he asked, eyes on hers as if trying to will her to understand that he was asking for a lot more than that.

"Oh. Yeah," she offered, grabbing the piece of paper and holding it in her hand. And then, without thinking, she grabbed a pen and scrawled something across the top. Her phone number. He watched her, and she leaned across the counter to stick the receipt in his shirt pocket. "Call me sometime. Maybe we can meet after hours again." _God, that was lame._

"Yeah?" he asked. She smiled then, and his lips quirked into a small grin.

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "You know, maybe tomorrow night, _I_ could be your date." _Who are you? Carol Peletier is actually asking someone out? She who swore off men after getting burnt?_

"Maybe," he replied, patting his shirt pocket as he turned around. Just as he stepped away, she reached out to tap him on the shoulder.

"Daryl?" He turned then to look right into her pretty blue eyes, and she tugged at his tie a little, bringing him closer. His lips parted, and his tongue darted out to wet them. He gasped a little when she leaned forward, but instead of kissing him, she took a pair of scissors and snipped the tag off of the back of his tie. "Don't want her to know you bought it last minute. A girl likes to think you've prepared, you know." She winked at him then before putting the scissors down. And oh, his breath smelled like mint and smoke, and it was wildly intoxicating. Still, she knew better than to mix business with pleasure, so she figured she'd best just wait for his phone call. "Have a good night, Daryl."

"Yeah," he said softly, voice barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat then when she smiled. "Yeah. You, uh, you too." She patted his shirt pocket then, reminding him of his receipt with her number scrawled across it. And then she let go of his tie, and he turned to walk to the door. She followed after him, giggling softly when he ran into the locked doors.

"Damn it," he grunted, face flushing in embarrassment. He turned toward her, and he nearly lost his breath when she stepped right up to him.

"Might get further if the door was unlocked," she offered, as she leaned forward, brushing up against him as she unlocked the door. He tensed against her, and she looked up to see him swallow hard. "You're good to go."

"Alright," he managed, licking his lips as she cocked her head to the side. "You ok?"

"Yeah. Uh. I'll call ya. Carol."

"You do that," she grinned, as he turned and nearly tripped over the threshold and out onto the sidewalk. He turned then to see her give him a little wave before she locked the door again. Her heart thundered in her chest as she watched him wave back, his gaze drifting over her face and down her chest for the briefest moment before his face reddened again and he headed back to his truck.

Chewing her lip, she turned out the lights and leaned against the wall, feeling her heart hammering against her ribs like crazy. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, face tingling as her stomach did a flip. She hadn't felt like this in a very long time, and damn it felt good.

All she could do now was wait for a call from the sweet stranger who'd made one of the worst days of her retail career end on a much happier note.


End file.
